


One Life Could Never Be Enough With You

by waltermitty



Series: Nathan and Wade [1]
Category: Cable and Deadpool, Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cablepool - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Nathan loves Wade, Sad Ending, Wade loves Nathan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 11:09:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19018705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waltermitty/pseuds/waltermitty
Summary: Nathan loves Wade more than one life could contain.





	One Life Could Never Be Enough With You

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be happy and smutty but it got sad real fast. Sorry.

It was 2 am, and Wade was sitting at the only restaurant open in Queens at this hour, Joe’s. Just Joe’s. The name was simple, the food was almost always lukewarm, and Diane and Charlie, the waitress and cook respectively, knew him by name. Unfortunately, after Vanessa died, he'd been coming here alone, alone for days and weeks and months. It was becoming pathetic. 

As if it wasn't before, the voices begged to differ.

For the first 3 days he was here Diane gave Wade sad smile after sad smile until he began to stink through his charcoal grey hoodie and a piss yellow beanie that quote ‘brought out his eyes.‘ He'd been picking at the same piece of week-old pie for a while now and damm him for liking cream in his coffee because it curdled shortly after 4 days in the constant 75 degrees of humid stink that sat like a fog in the diner. 

Charlie refused to bring him anything else until he went home and showered. It was beginning to occur to Wade that once again, under the fluorescent lights and linoleum floors he was disgusting and alone. Shoving the pie to the very corner of the table, scooping out the now completely solid, jiggly, mass of coffee and cream from his mug and plopping it ceremoniously onto the pie like some kind of stinky oozing garnish, Wade announced his departure. Diane rolled her eyes so hard she almost popped a blood vessel and rang him up for the pie, the coffee, and the chicken fried steak he had the first night he wandered in. 

“Cmon Diane, sweetcheeks, I’m grieving, can’t ya cut me a break? Huh?” Wade plopped his head sideways on the counter, his skull landing with a solid thunk on the tile.

“See, I would’ve been happy to give you the discount you so truly deserve, Diane began, a sad smile flitting across her face before being quickly replaced with what looked to Wade like the beginnings of a scowl. "Until last night, when you shot yourself in the foot when that police officer politely asked who parked their yellow station wagon in the handicapped spot with no handicapped placard on their dashboard or on their license plate." 

Her smile had disappeared completely at this point, Wade observing that there was no question she was annoyed with him. He threw a few crumpled and stained twenties on the counter, turned on his heel, and finger gunned her as he walked towards the door 

“I’ll be back in an hour!” Wade yelled back through the doorway, just barely catching Diane thump her head on the counter in defeat.

Wade choked back a laugh, turning his attention back to the wall of man he was about to face plant into. From behind my little pony sunglasses Wade had squeezed down his face, he found himself face to face, well face to unreasonably large pecs, with the sexiest (old) man he’d ever seen. Salt and pepper hair cropped short on the sides, framing a chiseled jaw with the perfect amount of scruff. A brown eye glaring at him, the other a glowing amber orb. A strong neck, thick and intertwined with shimmering and whirring metal, tapers into broad shoulders and a well-muscled waist.

“Jesus Christ” Wade gasps out as he falls backward onto the floor, his head hitting the tile hard.

“Hey, you okay pal?” the gruff voice floats from above him, Wade cracking his eyes open to see the aforementioned man crouched over his limp body, concern barely seeping through his hardened features. 

He offers a hand toward Wade, who loses all train of thought when the hand is thrust into his line of vision. He is just a man after all. After about 30 seconds of this, the man sighs a deep, tortured sigh, and further leans down to grip the front of Wade’s henley, yanking him to his feet and right into that perfect chest. At this point, he’s thrown all caution to the wind, and he leans right into the guys embrace. Strong hands grip his upper arms and gently push him out of the lush pectoral lawn he was about to fall asleep in, the voice again gruffly floating above his head.

“Hey, let's get you sat down huh?” Wade can hear Diane groan at his shuffled return to the booth he had just vacated, the other man gently placing him in the seat, tucking his stunned boots into the table, and then sitting gingerly on the other side. 

Diane hurries over to the secluded booth, as fast as her waitress shoes can carry her, immediately grabbing Wade's head in her warm palms and turning his face directly towards her. Wade stares unblinking and dead into her warm brown eyes, still in shock from both the fall and the man he just face planted into. 

“I think he has a concussion” Diane announces with a large degree of annoyance in her tone.

The man, no, the god, sitting across from Wade grunts softly, not looking up from where his eyes have been glued to his menu for the better part of their escapade to the booth. Diane ceremoniously lets go of Wade’s head and Wade lets it loll backward of its own accord, flopping onto the vinyl seat behind him.

“I’ll take a coffee and a slice of your blueberry pie please.” the man across from him orders in his gruff voice, polite and measured. 

“Sure hun.” Diane smiles down at the man, collecting his menu and sauntering off towards the kitchen.

Wade finally snaps back to reality, eyes zeroing and focusing right into the eyes of the man across from him. 

"So I figure I should get the name of the man who so heroically saved me from death by tripping.” 

“It was nothin,” the man grunts out. “M’ names Nathan” 

“Nathan, huh? Sinister. Really goes with the eye.”

Nathan raises one eyebrow, a slow smile creeping across his hardened features. 

“Noticed the eye huh?” as if on cue, Nathan’s right eye begins to thrum, a deep amber, the soft glow flicking across his perfect 5 o'clock shadow.

It's hard to miss, and even harder to look away from, Wade notes, finding himself gawking. He very forcefully closes his mouth and scoots the couple feet towards the end of the booth, his ass very loudly squeaking over the plastic cover. 

“Well thank you for the rescue, but I was on my way out of here anyway. People to see things to do you know” Wades scrambles the rest of the way out of the booth, making a mad dash for the door when a warm hand firmly grasps his wrist and effectively stops his exit. 

“Stay. Please.” Nathan is still gripping his wrist, thumbing the scarred skin, anchoring him.

Wade huffs tamping down the arousal building in his stomach, and heroically ignores the voices having a fucking field day, arguing for him over what to do next. He turns to see Nathan staring at him, waiting for him to sit down or leave, and Wade decides, oh what the fuck with it. He steps backward, plops down in the exact spot he just vacated, and waits for a second, giving the older man time to change his mind.

“You never told me your name”

“It's Wade. Wade Wilson”

Nathan hums thoughtfully at the response, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.

“I'm new around here, and I was wondering if you knew of any nearby motels I could stay at until I find something more, permanent.” 

Just as Wade is about to explain to him that there is no such place in this part of town and that he'd be better off sleeping on Wade's couch or in his bed even, when Diane arrives with Nathan's coffee and pie. He thanks her for both, and immediately takes a bite of the pie, followed by a low hearty groan punctuated by his tongue coming out of his perfect fucking mouth to lick the bit of blueberry off of it. Wade feels like he might just combust where he sits, a very inappropriate boner beginning to emerge from his sweatpants. Nathan opens his eyes to see Wade blushing a delightful shade of pink, and chuckles as he takes a sip of coffee. 

“So? Know of any good places to stay?”

“No. Nothing. Nada. Zip.” 

Nathan just raises one perfect eyebrow in response, taking another bite of pie and chewing thoughtfully. Wade watches him, can't take his fucking eyes off of those very nice lips, imagining what they'd look like wrapped around his cock when Diane bursts him out of his reverie.

“Here's the check hun, and don't let this one bother you too much.” she motions towards Wade with a huff and a smile to her tone, to which Wade responds with a very theatrical eye roll. 

Nathan pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth and gives Wade a very obvious look up and down, eyes roving over every single part of his exposed flesh as well as everything else. Wade can feel his cheeks heating as he watches Nathan drink him all in.

“I don't think he's gonna be a bother, but thank you for the warning,” Nathan responds with a light smile, Diane herself turning pink and scurrying off with the check.

“So you've got no place to go huh?” Wade chokes out, proud of himself for forming a coherent sentence what with the blatant eye fucking being thrown his way.

No one's looked at him like that since Vanessa. Wade knows he is, or was, generally good looking, with high, firm cheekbones and a cut jaw. The six pack always helped, complimented by his well-defined arms. since cancer, and then the torture-induced mutilation of his skin, Wade hadn't had much luck in the romance or sex department, except for Vanessa.

“She was your wife, it was her job” yellow reminds him, as black chimes in with “and now she's dead. so. have fun with finding a replacement!"

Wade shakes his head as if to rid the voices out his ears, to shake them onto the floor where they're stuck for eternity, and looks back up at the man across from him.

“Since you saved my life and all, you can sleep in my spare bedroom, until you find something more permanent.” 

Nathan looks shocked, and then something like relief floods across his face. 

“Aren't you afraid I'm a serial killer or something?” 

“I've been told I don't have any self-preservation skills.” Nathan chuckles at the comment and slides a couple of bills into the checkbook and begins to slide out of his seat. 

“Alright then Wade. I'll stay in your spare room.”

“And here I thought id have to beg you.” Wade quips back, scooching out of the booth, stretching his long legs as he stands. 

“It looks to be that way” Nathan replies easily, not breaking eye-contact. Wade thinks he might melt under his gaze. 

"Bye Diane!" Wade screeches, pulls his hoodie tight around his midsection as Nathan flanks his side, walks out into the night. 

Wade leads him to the bright yellow station wagon, pulls the keys from his pocket, gives the door on swift kick and manages to slide right in. Nathan’s door glows amber, opens of its own accord, and Nathan ducks down into the seat with ease, like he’d done it before. He gives Wade a meaningful glance before swallowing it down- stares straight ahead. Wade pulls out of the parking lot, rumbles down the empty street towards his apartment. It’s about a 5-minute drive- Nathan sitting in silence as Wade talks about baseball scores, the Golden Girls, pizza, coffee, and death in all the time it takes them to arrive at his apartment. He leads the way, Nathan’s eyes flicking with something akin to recognition at the crumbling building, follows him inside. Wade’s place is on the second floor, third from the elevator. His neighbor is a 20-year-old woman with three kids, the other one an old deaf guy. He pushes open the door with his shoulder, really throws his back into it. The apartment’s dark, unlived in. He flicks a light on, kicks a couple of pizza boxes out of his path, turns around with a taaa daaa! Nathan smiles at him- soft. 

“It’s not much but here's that spare bedroom Nathan.” Wade can’t shake the feeling of familiarity settling in over him. The voices are in an uproar, begging him to ask Nathan politely if they can suck his dick. Wade declines. 

“Thank you,” Nathan replies, pauses like he wants to say more- pats him on the shoulder with one warm hand. 

Wade holds in a shiver. He’s a grown man. A pat on the shoulder is not deserving of a full body shiver. 

“Okay well. Goodnight.” Wade stalks off to his room- adjacent to Nathan’s. The walls are thin and he can hear Nathan shuffling around next to him. Wade toes off his shoes and his nasty old sweatshirt, peels the beanie off of his head as he climbs into bed. It’s cold and empty, too big for him. If he cries while he jerks off that night thinking about Vanessa that’s okay, the voices tell him it’s okay. They never agree. 

The next morning Wade wakes up to the smell of bacon and semi-burnt toast, Bruce Springsteen pouring through the orifices of the apartment, soaking into his bones, wet and warm. He rolls out of bed, lands on the floor with a thunk, stays there for a moment. He finally hoists himself up, pads out into the kitchen and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Nathan is wearing a tight grey t-shirt and obscenely tight little black shorts, Wade’s “Kiss the Cook” apron tied around his middle. There are bacon and eggs and something that looks like a waffle all thrown together on a plate, fork stabbed into the fluff of yellow in the corner. 

“Well hello there Chef Boyardee. Got shit cookin?” Wade wiggles himself onto the stool across the counter, props his head in his hands. 

"Made ya breakfast. Figured it was the least I could do since you're letting me stay here." 

Nathan spoons some eggs and bacon onto a plate for himself, passing Wade one as well. They sit at the counter, Wade watching the curve of Nathan's throat as he swallows his coffee. 

Nathan finally speaks, slow and easy.

"We know each other." he says." In the future, you and I are together." 

Wade spits out his coffee and hacks for a solid minute, his counterpart sitting calmly waiting for him to breathe again. 

The voices have woken up completely now, babbling amongst themselves at this reveal. The black box says that they should fuck Nathan right now in the middle of breakfast and yellow says they should kill him for being a liar. Wade tells them to shut the fuck up and leans forward on his elbows. 

"You're from the future. A future where we- Wade gestures between them wildly, "Where we, are together? As in a long term bootycall? Do we love each other?" he can't help the slip of panic into his voice at the idea, half anticipation and half fear. pretends that he isn’t half hard from watching Nathan cook. 

“Yea-" he pauses, runs a hand through his hair, musses up the perfectly slicked down grey strands. "We love each other an awful lot."

Wade just stares at him, mouth hanging open with half chewed food sitting there. 

"Close your mouth Wade. Finish chewin your food." Nathan directs, a slow drawl of a command that sounds like a suggestion but that Wade knows is an order. 

He’s staring at Wade from across the bar, something like want want want flashing across his face. 

Wade chews longer than necessary, lets the food sit in his mouth as he thinks. Finally, he swallows, takes a sip of coffee. 

“Why are you here then? Doesn't that break the space time continuum?” Wade knows he’s being smart- knows it’s annoying to the other man. 

“I’m here for more time.” Nathan says simply, shoves a piece of bacon into his mouth and blinks several times. 

“More time huh?” Wade’s voice is quieter now- still thick with sleep. 

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more Wade. It’s the rules of time travel- as much as we might want to change the future we can’t- destiny is destiny.”

Wade just nods, Nathan staring at him with those big sad eyes- well one sad eye- the other a glowing sexy orb. 

“Okay.” He finally says, comes to grips with the idea that Nathan, the sexiest terminator impersonator he’s ever seen, is in love with him. 

There is no way he loves us. 

He loves Wade, moron. Not us. 

Wades face must contort something awful at the voices chiming in, seeing as Nathan places his fork down, leans forward, and grips Wade’s cheeks in his hands. 

“I love you all. Yellow and Black and Wade. All of you.” Nathan’s voice cracks slightly, a single tear rolling onto his cheek and disappearing into his scruff. 

The voices are screaming now- screaming at Wade at Nathan, telling him they know him. 

“Oh.” 

Nathan lets go of his face, leans back over to his side of the counter, proceeds to shovel an entire waffle into his maw without choking. 

Wade wants to kiss him senseless over the counter, wants him to take his big strong hands and wrap them around his throat. Wade wants a lot of things. He’s pretty sure Nathan can read his mind given the look he's giving him. 

“I can read your mind Wade.” Nathan calmly projects into his head, the voices parting like the red sea at the intrusion. 

Then suddenly, like he’s at a movie of his life, Nathan is projecting their memories into his conscious. It’s them in battle, side by side, them sitting on the couch together, the ugly brown couch that is several feet away from them at the moment. There’s memories of them with a little girl- memories of them fucking in the back of Dopinders cab, on the counter, over the back of the sofa, in the bed, god even in a church. Wade feels queasy, so many little snippets of their lives together flashing through his mind. 

“Does that help?” Nathan asks, gentle and earnest. 

Wade calmly adjusts his Golden Girls sweatshirt before he proceeds to swipe the plates and mugs to the floor, launching himself across the counter and almost directly into Nathan’s lap. 

“Yes. It did help. And now if you’d be so kind as to make out with me ferociously- that’d be fantastic.” 

Wade's grinning at him, wiggles in his lap as the other man's hands fly to grip his waist, pulling him closer. One hand comes up to cup his jaw, tugs him into his chest, connects their lips with a softness unmatched. He kisses like summer, Wade thinks. It's hot and soft and wet and the hand gripping his waist moves its way to his ass, kneading and pulling as they rock together on the stool, Wade shoved against the counter. Nathan licks into his mouth like he's claiming him, pulls away to suck marks into his throat and jaw, little nips and growls as he works his way across Wade's throat. 

"Hey- I-Jesus, Nathan- can you-" Wade cuts himself off as Nathan palms his dick half-hearted- teasing him as he continues to assault his neck and chest. 

"Sorry what did you want?" Nathan gives one last lick over the bite mark blooming on his throat and lifts his eyes up, continues to stroke Wade like it's nothing. 

"Could you get on with it and fuck me on the counter already?" Wade says as he scrunches in half to return the favor, gets a hand on Nathan's impressive length as he nibbles on his ear lobe. 

Nathan shoves him onto his back flat onto the counter with just his hips, grinding their cocks together as he leans over his body, licks back into his mouth like he's staking a claim. 

"Maybe-" Nathan begins, pulling away to tug off Wade's briefs, "If you asked nicely I'd be more inclined to move things along. But until then I'm just going to take my sweet time eating you out." With that, he yanks Wade's underwear all the way off, licks his lips and quite frankly, dives in. Wade moans low and loud as Nathan shoves his legs up over his shoulders, licking a broad stripe across his hole and just barely lapping at his balls before moving back southward to eat Wade's ass like he's starving for it. 

"Jesus fuck- Christ Nathan! Please, puh-leaseee fuck me over the counter. As soon as you're-" He gets cut off by Nathan working a finger in beside his tongue, his other hand coming up to slowly jerk Wade as he hums and licks, perfectly content. 

Wade thinks he's going to die. 

Finally, as if by some mercy of the gods or maybe Wade's quiet begging, or maybe a bit of both, Nathan finally works three fingers into him, curling them just so over his prostate. Wade arches off the counter, his sweatshirt rucked up to sit just above his nipples, which Nathan is currently abusing like there's no tomorrow. 

"Fuck baby that feels fucking amazing how did you learn to do that holy shit!" Wade's babbling now, intermittent flicks and bites on his nipples sending shockwaves down his spine as Nathan pumps his fingers in and out, hitting that fucking spot every time. 

"Lots of practice" is all Nathan says, shucks his tiny shorts and finally shows Wade what he's working with. 

Wade, if he hadn't had his legs thrown over Nathan's shoulders, back arched and sweatshirt almost choking him, would have dropped to his knees to beg for Nathan's sweet sweet dick. Wade scrambles around for a moment, reaches underneath himself to get a hand around it, and to his delight and surprise his hand doesn't even wrap all the way around. 

Nathan blushes as Wade lets loose a string of curses and praise as he slips the condom on, lines himself up. 

"You ready?" Nathan asks, pauses. 

He's looking at Wade like it's the first time, like he's never seen him before. He's looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars and it's making Wade's chest hurt, just how much the man currently between his legs means how much to him- even if it's future him. He can't help but feel the connection, the sort of comfort a life together can bring. 

"Yeah- been ready." Is the best he can muster, chokes back the ugly tears he feels pooling in his eyes. why am I about to cry. he feels Nathan push in, throws his head back and fucking moans, grinds down to meet his hips. 

It's made even worse when Nathan's voice pops into his head, low and gravelly. 

"That feel good baby? Like the way I'm holding you down against me, fucking into your tight ass?" 

Wade, a grown man with plenty of sexual encounters under his belt, almost passes out. He whimpers as Nathan pulls out, the long slide of him pushing right back in, slow and relaxed as can be. He's going to cry now- not from sadness, but from sheer pleasure. The man is a fucking sex god-and he knows it. He fucks Wade slow and lazy, languid snaps of his hips paired with gentle caresses and murmured good boy's, takes his time mapping out Wade's chest and cheeks with his lips, holds him down as he arches up, comes all over both of their chests and part of Nathan's face and neck. He speeds up finally, shoving Wade up the counter and pulling him back as he chased his own release. 

“Wade honey- fuck- I’m gonna come- you gotta tell me where-” Nathan’s gripping onto his hips like they’re the only thing holding him down, like some sort of divining rod. 

“Ohmygod Jesus come in me- fuck daddy fill me up holy shit!” Wade feels himself say the word daddy but he can’t bring himself to care seeing as Nathan’s entire face goes blank, his hips stutter, and he comes. 

They sit for a few minutes, letting the air around them hang thick and warm, the press of the counter cool against Wade’s back. Nathan slowly pulls out, pulls the condom off and ties it, throwing it away somewhere. He scoops Wade up in his arms, carries him into his bedroom and sets him down on the bed, walks into the bathroom and turns on the bath, comes padding back in with a warm washcloth. 

Is he cleaning us off? 

I believe that is the correct term for what he is currently doing, yes. 

Why? Why in the hell would he wanna do that?

Probably wants to get out of here without feeling guilty... Makes sense. 

The voices quipp back and forth about Nathan’s true intentions, Wade too fucked out to argue with them. It’s silent for a few moments, the voices feeling something pressing on their front door, asking to come in. 

“I’m cleaning you off because I love you, and I like taking care of you. That’s why. I know you don't know that now, seeing as you just met me, but I promise you- this is because I love you. All of you.” 

Nathan’s voice pops into Wade’s head, gentle and gruff. Wade sighs, lets him slip his sweatshirt over his head and toss it off into the depths of his room. 

“Bathtime now huh? We gonna have bubbles too?” Wade murmurs into Nathan’s ear as he scoops him up into his arms, walks them into the bathroom where the bath is now full. 

“Sure baby- whatever you want.”

He sets him down on the lip of the tub, pours some soap in to make the bubbles. Wade climbs into the warmth, sinks down and lets the water rise up to cover his chest. 

“Scoot forward bub.” Nathan directs, shoves gently at his shoulder as he climbs in the tub behind him, water sloshing up and over the tub. 

Wade leans back against his chest, lets the other man cradle him like he’s going to break. 

“Hey, Nathan?” Wade almost whispers the question, as if by asking it will cause Nathan to vanish. 

“Yes Wade?” The voice grumbles back, full of something Wade hasn’t heard in so long it almost hurts his ears. 

It’s love, Wade. Yea. How Nessa used to talk to us. 

Wade swallows the voices into his stomach, lets them burn up in the acid. 

“Why are you here. In the past. I know I’m not supposed to ask- what with the space-time continuum bullshit but- why.” 

Nathan sighs deep- wraps his arms around Wade's chest, holds him like a glass figure.

“Wade. I’m here now for a reason. You’ll find out later why- but I really can’t tell you.” He swallows and presses a kiss to Wade’s head, slips back further into the bath. 

“Okay. Can you tell me who that little girl was?” 

“That's our daughter. Her name is Eleanor.” Nathan’s voice goes soft, slack as he remembers her. 

Wade gets a brainful of images, mostly of him and Eleanor asleep in various places, eating huge stacks of pancakes, coloring together. There’s some of Nathan and Eleanor, but Nathan is hesitant to project the images. 

They finally climb out of the bath and get dressed, clean up the mess that is the kitchen. Wade persuades Nathan to watch Mexican wrestling with him on the couch, and they lie there together for what seems like years. 

Time is cruel, Nathan tells him. He tells him of how they met, that Wade was actually on a job after Vanessa died, almost killed himself in the process. Nathan saved his ass, albeit getting chewed out for it, but they quickly became inseparable. Nathan told him about their wedding the day after he proposed, said he’d do it all over again if he could. They get married in a little chapel a block away from their apartment, Diane crying as she officiated the wedding. Nathan explains that they’d gotten married at city hall the first time, right after a job, covered in blood and hair and brains, laughed their way into a lifetime together. They take their honeymoon on some tropical island Wade can’t be bothered to remember, and Nathan tells him that this was the same as before, that some things can’t be changed. He tells him of how Eleanor came about, a little thing someone left on their neighbor’s doorstep. They stumble home one night, drunk as sin and fooling in the hallway, the sound of a baby crying breaking them from their stupor. Wade cries that night as he holds his little girl in his arms, watches her little fists clench as she smiles. Nathan just holds them close, lets his own tears fall. 

Eleanor grows up right before their eyes, jobs becoming few and far between as they move into a better apartment, send her to a good preschool. Nathan is quieter these days as if he knows what’s to come. Wade asks him every so often to tell him- tell him why he came back. Nathan always meets him with a kiss and a soft smile, the answer always: “I wanted more time.” Finally, months or weeks- Wade can’t recall, he understands why Nathan came back. He’d gone out on a routine job- a stakeout and surveillance, possible extermination. He kissed Wade 8 times and told him he loved him- held him so tight Wade thought his ribs would crack. He cried when he hugged Eleanor goodbye, she just giggled and kissed his weathered cheeks, tangled her fingers in his hair and told him to have fun. 

The knock at their front door sounds like gunshots, rips Wade into consciousness, pulls him off the couch as he pads to their door, pulls his golden girls sweatshirt over his head from all those years ago. He’s met with a grim-faced Weasel, clutching a piece of bloodied paper in his hands, face chalky. 

Wade hears him- hears his entire world come crashing down around him, the voices screaming, throwing their furniture around in tantrum, feels himself collapse to the floor, his head making a sickening cracking sound against the tile- silence enveloping him. He lies there for what feels like months upon months, Weasel offering to take Eleanor for a few days. He hears himself say yes- take her, hears himself say thank you- hears himself say goodbye to her, that he loves her so much. She just giggles, that sweet innocence of childhood clouding her. 

He lies there for weeks, in a daze. Gaunt from lack of food- exhausted from sleepless nights. He finally drags himself off the floor, picks at the dried bloodstain from his skull. The paper just sits there- mocking him. He opens it, hears Nate’s low timbre in his head. 

“All I wanted was more time. A chance to fall in love with you one more time- one life wasn’t enough. I love you Wade Wilson.”  
-Nathan  
Wade gets the paper framed, puts it on his desk. He retires that day, right then and there, promises to himself, to Nathan, that he will be around for Eleanor. She doesn’t quite understand where her dad went- asks about him often. Wade just holds her close, tells her that her daddy loved her so much, that he’s watching over her every day. She just smiles, fists her hands in his sweater and kisses his cheeks, asks him to watch the tapes. 

Static and sound filters in- Nathan’s voice rumbling to life as his face appears on their TV screen- little snippets of their life together that he filmed for them. They watch their lives together- living it once more. Eleanor grows up- grows up to be a capable, beautiful young woman. Wade takes her to Joe’s once a month, sits them in that same ugly booth where he met Nathan, and he tells her their story. 

Just a little more time. One lifetime could never be enough.


End file.
